


Escape

by Siren_Seashell



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 04:36:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7603633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siren_Seashell/pseuds/Siren_Seashell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Charlotte Lucas married Mr. Collins, she resigned herself to the fact that she would never find love.  She never expected that Mr. Collins, or his patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh, would bring her closer to finding happiness than ever before: In the form of Anne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Secrets

Chapter One: Secrets

Charlotte watched sadly as Lizzie and Maria departed. Maria waved enthusiastically, while Lizzie looked away, distracted. Something had happened between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, but Charlotte could not get her dear friend to tell her what had occurred. Charlotte felt a pang of despair as she watched the carriage drive away, the two young women in tow. Maria, the only person in the world to know her secret, and Lizzie, the reason Charlotte had a secret to begin with.

 

“Well, my dear Mrs. Collins,” she heard her husband bray from behind her, “there is work to be done! I am going to visit my dear patroness later! Would you care to accompany me?”

 

“I…” Charlotte was about to decline, ready to excuse herself from her husband’s venture, feigning a headache, or a household chore that could not be left unattended to for a moment longer. But then, something peculiar happened…

 

“Anne?” Charlotte heard herself murmur as a vision of Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s only daughter, and Mr. Darcy’s betrothed, floated into her head.

 

“Why yes! Anne will be there!” Her husband chirped merrily, though clearly confused as to why his wife had suddenly blurted out Anne’s name. Within a moment, however, any sign of Mr. Collins' prior confusion had dissipated, and he came to his own miraculous conclusion (as he was often apt to do).

 

“Ah, yes! Capital idea, my precious spouse!” Mr. Collins said suddenly. “Miss de Bourgh has been feeling ever so poorly, and has been confined to her rooms for the duration of my last two visits! It would be good of you to visit her and keep her company while Lady Catherine is good enough as to allow me time to converse with her!”

 

“Ah…yes, dear husband...” Charlotte said, nodding her head and composing herself by smoothing her skirt with her hands, “...that would be lovely. I have not had the pleasure of seeing Miss de Bourgh since we supped with Lady Catherine during Elizabeth and Maria’s stay.”

 

“It is settled then!” Her husband cried. “I am sure that Miss de Bourgh is mourning the departure of her betrothed, Mr. Darcy, and could certainly use some feminine company to lift her spirits!”

 

“You are most right, dear.” Charlotte agreed as she allowed her husband to walk ahead of her in his determined way, starting on the path to Lady Catherine’s estate.

 

 _I don’t know why on Earth I thought of Anne just now!_ Charlotte thought to herself. But as she walked quickly to keep up with her husband, Charlotte couldn’t help but think of Anne’s dull blue eyes. They were always tired due to illness, but they were also intelligent, and shined with a secretive look that always caused Charlotte to pause in wonder whenever she happened to catch Anne’s eye...

 

_No, I know precisely why I thought of Anne just now._


	2. Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte is surprised to learn that Anne de Bourgh is not all that she seems.

Chapter Two: Surprises

 

 

Charlotte stood next to her husband as a butler announced their arrival to Lady Catherine. Upon being allowed to enter, Mr. Collins briskly walked over to where Lady Catherine was seated upon a chaise, and swooped down to kiss her waiting hand. Lady Catherine barely took note of Charlotte as Charlotte dipped low in a curtsey, and Mr. Collins explained Charlotte’s desire to visit alone with Miss de Bourgh. As the older woman nodded with a tilt of her head, still failing to look at Charlotte, Mr. Collins looked back at his wife, smiled and nodded, giving her permission to leave them. Charlotte saw the pleading look in her husband’s eyes, as though his smile was meant to lessen the sting of his patroness’ coldness toward her. Charlotte did not love her husband -- at least, not in a romantic way -- but it was in moments such as this that she was reminded that her husband was a good man, and she was fond of him. He might act silly and put on airs from time to time, but he genuinely cared for the people he was closest to.

 

The butler, who was still waiting in the entry to the drawing room, beckoned for Charlotte to follow him as she turned to take her leave. He led her upstairs and down a dimly lit hallway. Charlotte had never been to the sleeping quarters of the house before, and she felt as though she was invading on Miss de Bourgh’s privacy by being here. However, before she could express her desire to return to the drawing room, the butler knocked on a heavy door made of dark wood to the left of them.

 

“Yes?” Charlotte heard a soft voice say from the other side of the door.

 

“Miss de Bourgh, I have Mrs. Collins here to see you. May I allow her to enter?” The butler asked.

 

“Yes, please do.” Charlotte heard Anne – Miss de Bourgh – say with a hint of surprise.

 

With that, the butler turned the knob of the door and opened it wide. Charlotte could see Miss de Bourgh looking intently toward the door, sitting in a plush chair. As she saw Charlotte, a charming smile appeared that Charlotte had never seen grace the young woman’s face.

 

“You may leave, Barnaby. Thank you.” Miss de Bourgh dismissed the butler, and as Charlotte entered the room, he closed the door behind her.

 

With the click of the door, Charlotte sank into a curtsey. “Miss de Bourgh” she said.

 

“Forgive me, Mrs. Collins. I hope you do not think me improper, but as of late I have been feeling rather weak, and it is difficult for me to rise and observe the proper courtesies.”

 

“Oh!” Charlotte exclaimed. “Oh, no Miss de Bourgh! I don’t think you improper at all. I appreciate your graciousness in allowing me to call upon you when you are not feeling well.”

 

“You are very kind.” Miss de Bourgh said with another stunning and charming smile. “I am very glad you called upon me. It is not often I receive company of my own. Most everyone that visits Rosings Park is here to see my mother, not me.”

 

“Much like my husband.” Charlotte said candidly, before realizing the potential impropriety of the words leaving her mouth. As the last word escaped her lips, her hand immediately went to her mouth, as though her fingertips would block any other such statements from escaping.

 

Anne laughed merrily, a sound Charlotte had never heard. Her eyes filled with mirth, she looked at Charlotte and said, “Oh, indeed! Mrs. Collins, I declare I never expected such words from you, but I am so glad to have heard them!”

 

“You will not say anything to my husband, or to your mother, will you?” Charlotte implored, color rising to her cheeks.

 

“Do not worry. Your secret is safe with me, Mrs. Collins.” Anne said, staring into Charlotte’s worried brown eyes.

 

Charlotte realized at that moment that Miss de Bourgh had a piercing stare, much like her mother’s, piercing into her soul and discovering her other secrets. Thinking of what Miss de Bourgh’s words might imply, the color in Charlotte’s cheeks deepened.

 

“Are you quite alright, Mrs. Collins?” Miss de Bourgh asked, worry creasing her features. She moved to get up, and as she did so, the black knitted shawl that was draped across her shoulders began to fall.

 

“Oh, no! Please, Miss de Bourgh, do not worry yourself on my account. Please stay seated!” Charlotte said, flustered, as she hurried forward to help Miss de Bourgh back into her chair and fix her shawl.

 

Charlotte ascertained that Miss de Bourgh was comfortably seated. When she was satisfied, she moved to help Miss de Bourgh place the shawl back upon her shoulders. It was then that Charlotte suddenly felt two hands – Miss de Bourgh’s? – take her upper arms, and she was pulled down into a seated position on Miss de Bourgh’s lap.

 

“Please, Charlotte, let us forego the formalities. Please call me Anne.” Anne said smiling at the confusion on Charlotte’s face.

 

“Ah, yes.” Anne said, “There is a certain power in others not knowing all that you are capable of, don’t you think, Charlotte? Having a secret inside yourself that is yours and yours alone, a hidden self. No one can take that way from you, as it is part of your identity. And that, dear Charlotte, is power.”

 

Charlotte felt bewildered. Why was she on Anne de Bourgh’s lap? She needed to get up, get away. Now. She felt her breath quicken. She was so close that she discovered Anne smelled of lavender. She could feel Anne’s soft breath against her face, warm and steady. What was happening?

 

“Anne –“

 

A knock sounded on the door. Quickly, Anne let go of her arms, and Charlotte leapt up off of Anne’s lap and onto her feet. Any sign of Anne’s former strength had suddenly vanished, as Anne appeared to go limp and lean back softly into her chair. However, Charlotte didn’t have time to ponder this revelation as she hear a maid say softly through the closed door:

 

“Miss? Madam wishes me to collect Mrs. Collins so that she may return home with her husband.”

 

“Yes, one moment!” Anne called back.

 

“Dear Mrs. Collins,” Anne said in a clear, determined voice, loud enough for the maid to hear, “it was so good of you to visit. Pray come back soon, I enjoyed your company immensely.” With those last words, Anne gave a small smirk and nodded her goodbye to Charlotte.

 

Charlotte was sure that her mouth was still hanging open in surprise, but she collected herself as she opened the door so that the maid did not suspect anything.

 

“Goodbye, Miss de Bourgh”, Charlotte said as she opened the door, ready to follow the maid to the foyer. Before quitting the room, she turned to look Anne directly in the eye, “I will be sure to call again, soon”.


	3. Solitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne ruminates on the events of the afternoon after Charlotte quits her chamber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This chapter is from Anne's POV, not Charlotte's.*

Chapter Three: Solitude

As soon as the door shut, separating her from Mrs. Charlotte Collins, Anne de Bourgh buried her head in her hands. “What was I thinking?” Anne mumbled into her fingers.

 

Anne knew that Charlotte would be good enough not to mention the events of the afternoon to anyone, and that her secret was safe. However, Anne could not help but feel a bit mortified at the brazenness of her actions. Even if she had enjoyed hearing Charlotte’s breath quicken, and the feel of Charlotte’s bottom pressing against her thighs through layers of skirts and petticoats.

 

Had Charlotte enjoyed herself? Anne had thought so … but now, in the moments after their meeting, everything seemed infinitely more confusing than it seemed when Charlotte was there.

 

Anne had been such a lonely child, and she had turned into a lonely woman, destined to become a spinster. Being that Anne was prone to fits, her mother had always deemed it unwise for Anne to venture outside of Rosings Park, unless absolutely necessary. Therefore, Anne hardly ever enjoyed the company of persons her own age, as many of the people who called upon her mother were closer to her age than to Anne’s. It was not often that Anne received company, especially attractive female company. Charlotte's visit had triggered something in her; something that lay dormant all other times.

 

The only person near to her age that Anne ever saw on a regular basis was Darcy, her cousin. When they were younger, her cousin used to sneak into her room after everyone was asleep. Nothing improper ever happened, Darcy was too good, and Anne would have never allowed it to happen; but it seemed as though Darcy inherently knew that Anne could use the company. They would talk until the early morning, Darcy would tell her of his travels, and Anne would imagine herself traveling with her cousin, exploring places in her mind that she would never see with her own eyes. They both knew from an early age that they were technically betrothed, but, thankfully unbeknownst to her mother, they had agreed at the ages of 15 and 17 that they would never marry one another. Rather, they would remain dear companions and confidantes until such a time that the World decided it was done with them. Darcy never mentioned it, but as intuitive as he was, Anne was fairly certain that he knew her interests and desires lay with the fairer sex.

 

Last she saw her cousin, a few days prior, he had come into her room late at night, as he once had many years ago. As she was already feeling rather weak, due to a spell she had suffered earlier in the day, she did not rise from the bed when he entered:

 

_“Fitzwilliam?” She had asked._

_“Yes, Anne, it is me. How are you feeling?”_

Darcy had never been one for flowery language. Men like Mr. Collins would have doted on her and used appropriate terms of endearment upon learning of her spell. Such men would treat her like a doll, something fragile and porcelain, something that may break if you speak to it too harshly. Darcy was never like that, and he never would be. Darcy was direct, to the point.

 

_“My head aches a bit, as is normal. And I feel rather exhausted, but thank you for asking, Cousin.”_

Anne remembered seeing Darcy’s face in the dim light of the moon coming through the window next to her as he perched on the end of her bed. He had looked peculiar as he entered, pained, face drawn. He almost looked a spectre in the moon’s glow. Now his features twisted into alarm:

 

_“Anne, I apologize. Here you are, exhausted, and I disrupt your rest. Please forgive my foolishness and selfishness…”_

“ _No, Fitzwilliam!”_ Anne had whispered softly as he rose from the bed. _“Sit back down. Please. Keep me company.”_

He obeyed, sitting once more, and grabbed her hand that was nearest to him. They sat in silence for sometimes, his thumb mindlessly tracing over her fingers, until he seemed to break out of his quiet reverie and whisper softly:

 

_“Anne? Do you think me a hateful, prideful man?”_

 

 _“Well, you are related to my mother.”_ Anne had responded, smiling softly. That caused him to smile and laugh quietly. Anne had not seen him smile so in such a long time. Ever since the ordeal with George Wickham and Georgiana, perhaps even since he became the master of Pemberley, he had grown stern and serious. Few ever saw his true, gentle nature.

 

“ _I proposed to Miss Elizabeth Bennett.”_ He confessed. Anne could not say she was surprised, she had seen the glances Darcy gave Miss Elizabeth when he thought no one was looking. As she had told Charlotte, there _was_ a certain power to going unnoticed, fading into the background: you became more aware of your surroundings, of things going on that you were never meant to take note of.

 

                                                                                                        ---------

 

Suddenly, Anne was torn from her memory of that evening not so long ago and the conversation she had with Fitzwilliam. There was another knock at her door.

 

“Mrs. Collins?” She inquired aloud, words forming half out of hope, half out of confusion.

 

“No, Anne, it is Mama.” She heard her mother say before coming in uninvited.

 

“Ah, hello, Mama.” Anne greeted her mother as she turned her cheek up to meet her mother’s kiss.

“I just had a lovely visit from Mrs. Collins, Mama.” Anne said, attempting to start a conversation. Like her cousin, Anne’s mother was always very abrupt and precise in her words, almost painfully so. Anne often felt her own words to be inadequate by comparison, and could never could think of what to say in her mother’s presence. So, often Anne stayed quiet and let Lady Catherine do the talking. Charlotte’s visit had emboldened Anne today, however, and she would not let her dear Mama intimidate her.

 

“Yes, well. Mrs. Collins is a fine woman, I’m sure.” Her mother said in response. She could tell her mother did not quite approve of Charlotte, though Anne could not fathom why. Perhaps her mother thought Mr. Collins could have secured a better match. For her part, Anne thought Charlotte could have secured a better match than Mr. William Collins.

 

“Mama, perhaps while you go to visit Lady Bernadette later this week, you can prevail upon Mr. Collins and see if he would allow his wife to keep me company for a night or two, while you are gone? My spells have been becoming more frequent, and I would hate if something were to happen while you are away.

 

“If you are so worried, I will cancel my trip, child.” Lady Catherine said decidedly. Anne longed to tell her mother that at five and twenty years of age, she was hardly a child, but she held her tongue, as it would not help her case to be insubordinate now.

 

“Mother, you told me just how much Lady Bernadette longs to see you. She admires you so. Please do not cancel your trip on my account. I am sure I will be fine; it would just be nice to have someone I trust here in case something should run amiss. Mrs. Collins is ever so kind, and it was so nice to have company of a similar age to my own just now.”

 

Anne saw her mother soften a bit at those words. She knew it pained her mother that Anne was not out in society. She would have quite the social standing, given her lineage, were she to have been presented. However, her illness made it impossible, and her mother always grieved that Anne did not often enjoy the company of other fine ladies who were of the same age.

 

“Very well,” Lady Catherine acquiesced, “I shall write to Mr. Collins tomorrow and see if he would be agreeable to such a request. I do not wish to inconvenience the man, or his wife. Is that understood, Anne? If he declines, I am cancelling my trip.”

 

“Yes, Mama.” Anne said, knowing very well that Mr. Collins would never deny anything to his dear Lady Catherine. Anne smiled slightly at the thought of having more alone time with Charlotte. She could no longer be certain that Charlotte’s secret was the same as her own, but she had caught Charlotte staring in her direction more than once, turning away when Anne caught her eye. She would have to explore the mind of Charlotte Collins, she decided. She hoped her exploration would lead to many pleasant discoveries. And even if not, Anne could not deny that she would enjoy the company after so many evenings of solitude.


	4. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte muses on her life and the events of the day.

Chapter Four: Silence

 

 

Charlotte lay awake as her husband snored lightly next to her. She shifted from her back onto her side and looked at her husband in the moonlight. There was nothing about him she could find physically attractive, no matter how hard she tried. Intercourse with her husband was never a pleasurable experience for her, as she had thought it was supposed to be. It did not help that he approached the act as one might approach pulling weeds: it was not an activity he particularly enjoyed, however he deemed it necessary to perform the act on a regular basis in order to keep up appearances -- and to create an heir.

 

Charlotte wanted a baby, of that she was certain. She had always enjoyed caring for Maria when they were younger, and helping Lizzie watch over the youngest Bennet daughters, Kitty and Lydia. Before she married Mr. Collins, she was certain that motherhood was a privilege that she was not destined to achieve, especially given her preference for the female sex. Now, what she once thought to be impossible was possible, but in the six months she had been married and enduring intercourse with William Collins, a baby had not begun to grow in Charlotte’s womb.

 

In the silence of the midnight hour, she heard rain start to patter against the window. A chorus of snores and raindrops filled her ears as she tried to distract her mind from thoughts of motherhood, and thoughts of Anne. However, the latter proved to be impossible. Gazing once more at her husband in the dark, she thought of Anne. She imagined Anne’s milk white skin, delicate and soft, glowing in the sliver of moonlight that shone through the rain clouds in the night sky. She knew that Anne was not faking her illness; she had been told by her husband that Anne suffered from headaches and had fits, seizures, on a regular basis. However, the amount of force that came from Anne’s hands and fingers as she pulled Charlotte onto her lap was altogether baffling. Did Anne think of her in a sexual manner? She must, but Charlotte was starting to doubt herself, and began to doubt that the events of the afternoon had happened at all.

 

 _It is possible that I made it all up in my head…_ Charlotte thought. She did have a rather vivid imagination, which would surprise those who thought they knew her best. She was never one for creating. She was not particularly fond of drawing or writing, but having to so often suppress her desires had caused her to live in a world of her own inside her head. From time to time, her imaginings seemed quite real to her.

 

Presently, she started to think of what it would be like if Anne were in the bed next to her, in lieu of her husband. What would intercourse be like with Anne? She did not imagine it would be a chore, like it was with William; she imagined it would be much more pleasurable. She had never lain with a woman. She did not know what would happen, how intercourse would take place. Granted, she had not known what intercourse was like with a man until her wedding night. It was not proper for a lady to know such things before she was married. However, Charlotte felt very silly indeed for having lived 27 years and still being very naïve to a great deal of what happened with couples behind closed doors.

 

She supposed there would be kissing involved, should she lay with Anne. She imagined Anne’s thin, bruised lips. She wondered if Anne often bit her lip? Perhaps she did so involuntarily when she began to have a fit? Charlotte longed to kiss those bruises, make them go away under the touch of her lips. However, if the bruises could not be mended, she longed to pull Anne’s bottom lip between her own teeth and suck on it until Anne moaned with pleasure…

 

Charlotte did not realize that her hand was between her legs and that she was starting to moan until she heard her husband murmur in his sleep, subconsciously stirred by the sound of Charlotte’s voice. Shocked and ashamed Charlotte quickly put the offending hand under her pillow and turned away from her husband, careful not to disturb the silence that she was doomed to endure.


	5. A Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Collins receives a letter, and informs Charlotte of its contents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those of you who have read this and/or left kudos so far! Please feel free to leave comments if you particularly like or dislike something. I hope to have Chapter Six up soon, and that's where the real fun begins. ;)

Chapter Five: A Letter

 

As Charlotte made her way downstairs, she looked through the drawing room window to the see sharp green of the lawn outside contrasted against the grey haze of the morning sky.  The gloomy horizon served as the only indicator of the previous night’s storm. She made her way to the dining room to greet her husband, having already broken her own fast in bed. Her husband stood upon seeing her enter, and quickly crossed the room to meet her where she stood.

 

“Good morning, my love.” He said, taking her hand and kissing it. “Pray, how did you sleep?”

 

“I slept well, thank you, William.” Charlotte said, inwardly cringing at her falsehood. She had hardly slept at all.

 

“And how did you sleep, husband?”

 

“Ah, yes. Tolerably well, thank you.” Mr. Collins said, releasing her hand and motioning for her to sit beside him at the head of the table.

 

This morning’s greeting rituals having ended, her husband commenced talking to her about matters of the household. Charlotte listened attentively, or at least, pretended to, when the subject matter failed to concern her, and sat quietly as William finished his meal.

 

The plates having been cleared away, her husband took note of a letter that must have been brought by post earlier in the morning. Charlotte could see that Mr. Collins had already read it, and as he went to grab it now, she could not help but be curious as to its contents.

 

Charlotte’s curiosity was quickly satiated when her husband began to speak:

 

“My dear Mrs. Collins, I almost forgot! I received a letter in the early morning post from Lady Catherine!”

 

“Oh? What news since we saw her yesterday?” Charlotte asked, secretly amused by the look of excitement and anticipation on her husband’s face. She would never understand her husband’s fascination with his patroness.

 

“Lady Catherine writes to request that you, my dear, stay with Miss de Bourgh for a few nights. Lady Catherine travels early tomorrow morning to pay a visit to an old and dear friend, and will be gone for at least a week. My patroness wishes not to leave her daughter alone at Rosings with only the servants to attend her.”

 

“Oh,” was all that Charlotte could say, mind filling with a thousand jumbled thoughts, before her husband continued:

 

“Before breaking my fast, I, of course, replied to Lady Catherine’s request with an affirmative response. I told her that you would be most happy to keep dear Miss de Bourgh company, especially in light of her recent ill health. I sent the letter with Mr. Charles post haste, and you are expected before supper on the morrow. Miss de Bourgh anxiously awaits your arrival, I am sure.”

 

Charlotte was momentarily annoyed at her husband’s taking the liberty to accept the invitation on her behalf before conferring with her, but the prospect of spending multiple days, and nights, alone with Anne was too irresistible for Charlotte to stay vexed.

 

“Yes, of course. It will be a nice chance to get to know Miss de Bourgh on a more intimate level.” Charlotte replied.

 

Her husband agreed wholeheartedly, and started to fuss about making arrangements. Charlotte heard him asking the housekeeper to assist Charlotte in packing her things, and he remained oblivious as Charlotte suddenly turned away from him so that he could not see her color at the thought of being on more _intimate_ terms with Anne de Bourgh.


	6. Expectations and Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte arrives at Rosing's Park becomes more acquainted with her new friend, Anne de Bourgh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it's been so long since the last chapter! Between switching jobs, starting my Master's Degree, and then getting sick, I haven't had the time to write as I would have liked. Unfortunately, this chapter is not as steamy as I had originally planned, but I promise you it is coming. ;) Hang in there, and I hope to update again much sooner than this past time. Thank you so much for reading!!

Chapter Six: Expectations and Introductions

The butler who greeted Charlotte at the door of Rosing’s Park motioned for her to stay in her present location, and walked off. Charlotte set down her valises as she watched him go. Alone, she felt anxiousness creep back into the pit of her stomach, making her chest tighten, and she slowly took off the travelling gloves and cloak, the buttons giving her hands an occupation other than fidgeting.

 

All of a sudden, Charlotte heard voices. She quickly finished unfastening her cloak, and looked up to see Miss Anne de Bourgh smiling at her as she crossed into the foyer. The smile seemed warm and genuine, and Charlotte could not help timidly smiling back as Miss de Bourgh took both Charlotte’s hands in her own.

 

“Mrs. Collins! It is so good of you to allow me your company while Mama is away.” Anne said, squeezing Charlotte’s hands slightly.

 

Charlotte’s own hands seemed to burn at the contact with Anne’s, and while part of her enjoyed her hands finding such a comfortable resting place, another part of her felt immensely uncomfortable while butlers, footmen, and maids looked on. Charlotte abruptly pulled her hands from Miss de Bourgh’s and awkwardly made a reply:

 

“Of course, Miss de Bourgh…” Charlotte hastily moved her eyes from the floor to Anne’s own, and upon seeing what she was certain was hurt and confusion in them, wished to avert her eyes once more. Instead, she tried to salvage what was left of the interaction. “You are looking quite well since I last saw you.”

 

“Ah, yes, thank you.” Anne replied, smiling once more, “I am feeling much more myself in the days that have passed.”

 

Charlotte smiled sheepishly, as at the end of the sentence, Anne’s blue eyes, clear and direct, met hers. She felt her cheeks warm, and she longed to break away from prying eyes.

 

Perhaps sensing her discomfort, Anne then promptly asked one of the footmen to carry Charlotte’s valises to a guest bedroom. As Anne directed him as to which room, the footman looked a bit confused, but followed her orders just the same.

 

“Pray, let us take some tea, Mrs. Collins, and then I shall show you to your room.” Miss de Bourgh said, offering Charlotte her arm. While Miss de Bourgh still looked frail, Charlotte could not help but notice a sense of vigor and fortitude that suddenly seemed to emit from her. As Charlotte gently looped her arm through Anne’s, she gently placed her hand atop the other woman’s, her thumb brushing the back of her hand. Anne looked over and met Charlotte’s eyes once more, rotating her hand so that Charlotte’s fingers now sat in the palm of her hand. Charlotte started to feel her uncertainty ebb as she laced her fingers through Anne’s, and the two walked together, beaming quietly, to the sitting room.

 

* * *

 

 

The tea passed all too quickly, it seemed, for Charlotte. The two women soon found that they had never really had a proper chance to get to know one another, and the afternoon was filled with questions about childhoods, families, homes, and occupations. Charlotte found that Anne was fond of novels, and had read Anne Radcliffe’s _The Mysteries of Udolpho_ multiple times now (of course, not while in her mother’s company.) She had also come to realize that Anne had led a rather lonely life, often her mother being her sole companion. Anne talked fondly of her cousin, Fitzwilliam Darcy, which made Charlotte question her initial impression of his character. She could not deny that Lizzie may have clouded her judgment just bit in that respect, though Charlotte had never been anything less than civil toward him. She feared she could not say the same for Lizzie…

 

Charlotte also learned that Mr. Darcy’s sister, Georgiana, was of an age with her sister Maria, and that Anne found her to be a kind and brilliant young lady. Anne confided to Charlotte that Miss Georgiana was one of Anne’s only correspondents.

 

“Should you like to have more correspondents?” Charlotte asked.

 

“Well, yes,” Anne admitted, “but not many fashionable women can be bothered to correspond with an invalid.”

 

“Well,” Charlotte said, “I do not consider myself to be the least bit fashionable, and I would gladly correspond with you…if you would like, that is.”

 

“I would like that very much, Charlotte.” Anne said quietly and with feeling. Then, two of them noticed the other blushing at the same time, and both were met with merry laughter.

 

“Then it is settled.” Charlotte said after catching her breath.

 

Anne nodded, and then jumped, startled, as the clock struck 3 o’clock.

“Well, Mrs. Collins, she said, switching back to formalities abruptly, I have kept you far too long. Let me see you to your room.”

 

“Yes, of course.”

 

As Anne led her up the stairs, Charlotte noted that the way seemed familiar, and found it was the same way she had been led the other afternoon to Miss de Bourgh’s room.

 

In noting the surprise on her face, Anne smiled and explained:

 

I hope you do not mind, but I have put you in the bedchamber next to my own. Guests normally do not stay in the family wing, unless they are, in fact, family, but as this room connects to my sitting area, I thought it might be proper to put you there. In the event that I fall ill or have a fit, there will be someone close by who may be able to hear my cries and come to my aid.

 

“It connects?” Charlotte had asked, fixated on that portion of the explanation.

 

“Yes.” Anne said, a slightly wicked grin lighting up her features. And suddenly they stopped in front of a door next to Anne’s own chambers. “This room is yours for the next few days, Mrs. Collins. Please, make yourself at home.”

 

“I shall, thank you, Miss de Bourgh.” Charlotte said smirking, and with that, she opened the heavy wooden door and entered into her room.

 

 


	7. Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte and Anne learn and connect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, all! Grad School (and life), has been crazier than I anticipated, but I will try to keep the chapters coming as I am able. Thank you for waiting patiently for Chapter Seven if you have stuck with me this long!

Chapter Seven: Connection

Charlotte smoothed her skirt as she prepared to open the door to her room and go down to dinner. During the interim, ever since tea, Charlotte had been unable to rest. She kept eying the door connecting her room to Anne’s, as though expecting Anne to burst forth from it at any moment. Or, did Anne want Charlotte to come to her? Charlotte was not sure. Charlotte was not even sure what it was that _she_ wanted. Her thoughts were caught somewhere between agitation and anticipation, and as soon as the clock struck the appropriate hour to dress, Charlotte busied herself immediately, taking great care in readying herself. She strove to distract herself by fastening buttons and pinning curls.

 

Now, she crossed the threshold into the hallway, and heard Anne exclaim from her right, “Oh! Mrs. Collins! There you are!”

 

Charlotte looked over to see that Anne was standing outside her own door, in a position that indicated she had quit her room some time ago, and was waiting for Charlotte to come forth before continuing down to dinner.

 

“I’m so sorry, Miss de Bourgh, I hope you have not been waiting long?” Charlotte asked.

 

“No, not at all,” Anne replied, although Charlotte suspected otherwise, “I was just wondering if you would be so good as to accompany me to the dining room? I am feeling a bit weak, and would be most appreciative if you would take my arm to steady me along the way.

 

“Certainly, Miss de Bourgh.” Charlotte acquiesced, looping her arm through Anne’s and resting her hand on Anne’s forearm. As they move onward, Anne asked:

 

“Did you rest well, Mrs. Collins?” Charlotte looked over at the other woman, and had to stifle a smirk as she noted a mischievous glint in Anne’s eye. “Oh, yes. Quite well, thank you Miss de Bourgh. I hope rest did not elude you?”

 

“On the contrary,” Anne responded, “I rested very well, my head filled with pleasant thoughts.”

 

“Oh? What sorts of thoughts, Miss de Bourgh?” Charlotte queried, unable to help herself.

 

Charlotte felt the warmth of Anne’s breath as the other woman’s lips came close to her right ear, “ _I’m afraid, Mrs. Collins,”_ Anne whispered, “ _that these thoughts were not of the sort one discusses in polite company. Perhaps you will be so kind as to join me in my bedchamber after dinner, and I shall tell you then.”_ Charlotte swore she could feel Anne’s wicked smile as she pulled her lips away from Charlotte’s curls and kept walking. Charlotte did not dare turn her head to look in Anne’s direction, but she could not help but smile broadly as they started to descend the staircase.

 

Dinner passed without much of consequence. Lady Catherine had made certain prior to her departure that the cook prepared the most sumptuous dishes for Anne and her guest, ensuring that both women were well fed, and were not want for anything. Wine was poured, conversation ensued, but both knew that the more substantial part of this evenings…social activities…awaited them after their meal. To keep up with appearances, both women retreated to the sitting room after dinner. They sat rather quietly, Anne embroidered while Charlotte read a novel, but neither could truly concentrate on their occupation, and the time was filled with stolen glances and hidden smiles.

 

Charlotte felt as though she had been counting her heartbeats, and she felt her heart sing inside her chest as the clock struck nine.

 

“Well, Miss de Bourgh, I think I shall retire for the evening. Will you join me?”

 

“Join you?” Anne questioned, her voice full of innuendo.

 

Charlotte blushed and felt a bit flustered. Anne knew exactly what she was doing, and the affect those words had on her.

 

“I mean, _Miss de Bourgh,_ ” Charlotte said pointedly, looking Anne straight in the eye, “would you like me to accompany you while you head upstairs so that you do not lose your balance?”

 

“Oh.” Anne said, feigning innocence, “Yes, that would be _most_ kind Mrs. Collins.”

 

Charlotte did not bother to stifle her smirk this time, and shook her head slightly as she offered her arm to Anne.

 

* * *

 

 

Anne found a sense of exquisite joy in teasing Charlotte. She had never really had a female companion, but she expected that this free, easy feeling between them was normal of many a friendship. Charlotte surely felt this way with her good friend Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Except, that there was more to this than just friendship. Anne wanted more.

 

She knew that Charlotte wanted it too, and as they neared their chambers, Anne could not help but wonder if Charlotte had ever been with a woman before. Would she know what to do? Charlotte seemed so timid at times, but Anne knew there was an assertive side to her, a side Anne longed to see more of. Anne felt her breath coming quicker, and trepidation and unease caused her to shake as Charlotte stopped at the door to Anne’s room.

 

“Anne, are you alright?” Charlotte asked with concern, taking note of her companion’s tremors.

 

Anne looked Charlotte in the eye, and seeing the genuine caring and feeling in her friend’s eyes, she started to cry softly. “Mrs. Collins, if you would be so good, could you help me into my chamber?”

 

Anne could see that Charlotte was confused, but soldiered onward helping Anne to a chaise near her bedroom window.

 

After ensuring that Anne was stable atop the chaise, Charlotte crossed the room to close and lock the door, so that no servants would intrude. Anne kept her eyes downcast, embarrassed by her foolishness, as she felt Charlotte perch herself of the chaise to the right of her.

 

“Anne?” Charlotte asked, putting a hand on Anne’s shoulder.

 

“I am so sorry Charlotte.” Anne whispered quietly. “I have never really had a friend before … let alone a lover … and I … I just became so scared. You are so good, Charlotte, and you are so kind to me. I want you to be both friend and lover, but I am afraid of ruining it all. I do not know what to do, Charlotte. How to act.”

 

Without saying a word, Charlotte took the hand that was on Anne’s shoulder and moved it so that her fingers were cupping Anne’s chin. She turned Anne’s head to face her, and gazed into Anne’s eyes, remaining quiet. The light outside had faded, and a soft moon glow highlighted Charlotte’s face. Anne felt entranced, enchanted by the scene, as Charlotte finally spoke:

 

“Anne de Bourgh, I don’t know what I am doing any more than you do. My experience consists of kissing Lizzie on the cheek one time when I was 24, she 16. I thought myself in love with her, I realize now that was folly. I never thought I would find someone who stirs me quite as you do. I knew what, whom, I preferred, but I never thought it could ever be reality. You have made me more confused in these past few days, Anne de Bourgh than I think I have ever been in my life thus far. But the confusion has been bliss, Anne. Please know that. It has given me more happiness than I ever thought possible. More pleasure than I ever thought possible…”

 

And with that, Charlotte leaned in, and smiled as she said, “We shall learn together.” Anne had no time to form a coherent thought before Charlotte’s lips met hers. At first, Anne felt numb, unable to move. But as she felt Charlotte’s lips against her own, her plump, soft lips everything she had ever hoped for and dreamed of; her breath felt hot against Anne’s mouth as warmth coursed through Anne's veins and happiness seemed to radiate from her being. She placed her hands on Charlotte’s cheeks, and kissed her back in soft, slow pecks that grew more urgent, ravenous. She felt Charlotte’s teeth pull lightly on her bottom lip, and Anne involuntarily moaned in delight. She rested her forehead against Charlotte’s and broke away, only for a moment to say, “Yes, we shall learn together.”


	8. Exploration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte explores.

Chapter Eight: Exploration

 

The next two days it rained, and so the two new friends stayed inside talking, reading, and playing games of cards. When they could ascertain that no one was around they quietly discussed their childhoods and how they came to realize their sexual preference. For Charlotte, it was when she became close to, and attracted to, her dear friend Elizabeth. For Anne, it was when she fantasized about kissing a friend of her mother's whom she thought was beautiful. Anne related to Charlotte that upon this realization of attraction, she was not sure that women could kiss other women the way that she envisioned, but her curiosity was relieved after she uncovered information from books that Fitzwilliam brought from Pemberley to share with her, unbeknownst to her mother. Back before he became the master of Pemberley, and became more serious, Fitwilliam was a clever and incorrigible young man. He knew that Anne found out much of her information about the world through her books, and he wanted to help her broaden her horizons, so to speak. Among the books that he pilfered from his family library for her sake were romance books of his mothers and psychological encyclopedias. These tomes possessed a wealth of information Anne could never have imagined previously.

After dinner on the second day, the two women begrudgingly broke apart so that Anne could be dressed for the evening by her maids, and none of the servants would be wise to Charlotte and Anne’s activities. Charlotte was to sneak into Anne's room through the doorway that connected the two rooms. Charlotte put her night clothes, impatiently waiting for Anne to knock, signaling for her to enter.

Remembering the kiss they shared two nights previously, and the many stolen kisses since, Charlotte could almost feel the pressure of Anne’s lips on hers, and it was divine. Anne's kisses were unlike any kiss she had previously shared with her husband. She sighed. She knew this could not last; she was only here for another few nights. But while she was here, Charlotte resolved herself to make the most of the time she had with Anne.  Suddenly, in the midst of her pacing, she heard a door close behind her. She turned around to see Anne, looking almost a phantom in her night shift, pale skin illuminated in the moonlight.

“Hello.” Anne said, smiling at Charlotte.

“I…I thought you were supposed to knock?” Charlotte stammered, caught off guard by Anne’s sudden appearance.

“I thought I would surprise you instead.” Anne said, coyness creeping into her voice.

Charlotte remained silent and bewildered as Anne moved closer to her, she did not know what to say or do, and she suddenly did not feel as confident as she had these last two nights in Anne's chamber. Charlotte felt exposed, and was worried what Anne would think of her after this encounter.

As Anne stopped inches from Charlotte, she put her hand to Charlotte’s cheek.

“Are you nervous?” Anne asked.

“No…” Charlotte said almost inaudibly.

“You’re lying.” Anne said teasingly. “You shouldn’t tell falsehoods, you know. Mother says it’s most unbecoming in a young lady.”

Amused by Anne’s words, Charlotte was able to relax a bit. “Does your mother catch you telling falsehoods often, Anne?”

“Nearly every day.” Anne replied chuckling. With that, she closed the small gap between them and pressed her lips to Charlotte’s.

Charlotte felt a surge of pleasure rush through her entire being as her lips met Anne’s. Charlotte moaned softly at the sensation, causing Anne to kiss her harder and with more urgency.

“I cannot believe you ever doubted yourself. You do this very well.” Charlotte remarked, breathing heavily, as Anne finally let her catch her breath.

“I am certain your abilities are far superior to my own,” Anne said, “but thank you, dear Charlotte. It pleases me to hear you say so.”

“Oh, Anne de Bourgh, you vex me so with your endless teasing!” Charlotte said with mirth as she playfully touched Anne’s shoulder.

Anne laughed, but then put her hand where Charlotte’s rested near her shoulder and slowly started to move it downward so that Charlotte’s hand covered her breast.

“Please…” Anne breathed.

Without needing any further convincing, Charlotte pressed her hand upward, palm roughly sliding over Anne’s nipple. She moved her hand back downward and pinched Anne’s nipple in between her index finger and thumb, feeling it harden beneath her shift.

“Oh, that’s exquisite!” Anne exclaimed.

Charlotte enjoyed the power she suddenly had over Anne; the power to render her helpless. Charlotte had never experienced such a feeling of power before, and the rush made her head swim. She slowly started to move her hand further downward gliding over Anne’s abdomen until she reached the hem of Anne’s shift.

“Charlotte?” Anne’s voice came out low and unsure, yet, lust-filled.

Charlotte merely smirked up at her as she took the hem of Anne’s shift and pushed it up, exposing the Anne’s legs and bloomers underneath. As soon as she found bare skin just above Anne’s hip, Charlotte pressed her lips to it, and then slowly painted a circle on Anne’s skin with her tongue.

She heard Anne giggle with pleasure at this new sensation, and taking it as her cue, Charlotte kissed and licked Anne’s body softly until she came to the area right underneath Anne’s breasts. She was about to explore some more, but Anne gently pressed on her shoulder to stop her from continuing.

Charlotte quickly started to worry that she had done something wrong, but as she looked at Anne, she saw a wicked grin light up Anne’s features:

“I cannot allow you to have _all_ of the fun, Charlotte. I think it is time I took my turn.”

Charlotte beamed with unabashed glee as Anne led her to the bed.


	9. Being There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte is there for Anne in her moment of need.

It was to be Charlotte’s last night there; it had been a wonderful past several evenings for Anne. She had never known the joy and comfort of having a female companion and she had never dreamt of the feelings that immersed her upon taking Charlotte as a lover. She smiled as she thought of Charlotte’s ivory-colored thighs exposing themselves as Anne’s hand worked its way under Charlotte’s nightdress; Charlotte’s cheeks flushed from delight and exertion. Anne thought of the way Charlotte’s lips paired perfectly with her own, and left her skin tingling in their wake whenever they touched other parts of her body. She thought of her and Charlotte giggling in bed, holding each other close as they had the previous nights, and telling stories from their childhood; sharing previously unheard, embarrassing tales of mutual acquaintances.

Filled with these happy thoughts, Anne felt her chest heave into a sigh. As lovely as this was, there was no way this could become a regular occurrence once Mama returned. But she would write to Charlotte, and in their correspondence she would find the happiness that often eluded her in the dim corridors of Rosings Park. Anne thought of sneaking into Charlotte’s room once more, but stopped herself when she remembered that Charlotte had mentioned feeling tired after their walk through the gardens early this afternoon. In the event that Charlotte was having a lie-down, Anne did not want to disturb her. Instead, Anne decided to pen her first letter to Charlotte. She would give it to her upon her departure, and wait for a reply in the days to come.

_My dearest Charlotte,_

_Can it only have been six days that we have been in each other’s company? It seems as though I have known you a lifetime, and yet, it feels as though you have been missing from my life up until this point. My head is filled with thoughts of you just now, and I wish you could see the pleasure they bring me.  I shall just have to endure, knowing that you will read this letter, and imagine what your response will be upon reading my words. Will they delight you? Make you smile?_

_I hope dearly that they make you smile. Your smile is like a soft beam of sunshine through a window pane, illuminating your face. You never want to draw attention to yourself, I have noticed, and your smile is always repressed, it seems. How I wish I could observe the full extent of your smile, uninhibited and sure. I pray one day I can make you smile so. ---_

Anne suddenly felt the headache that often accompanied a seizure and panicked. She felt her body tense and knew that she must get help before she was rendered unconscious. Through the ringing in her ears, she could barely hear herself call for Charlotte and she hoped that Charlotte would be able to hear her through the doors that connected their rooms. She stumbled for the door and attempted to open it, in vain, before losing consciousness and falling to the floor.

* * *

Charlotte awoke, startled. She thought she had heard Anne call her name. She listened attentively and made her way from the bed to the door that connected her door to Anne’s. Just as she reached the second door, she heard the handle rattle slightly on the other side and then heard something fall to the floor with a “thump”.

“Anne?” Charlotte called, opening the door. Anne did not respond, and when Charlotte made her way through the doorway, she saw that Anne was just on the floor in front of her, convulsing.

Worried and unsure of what to do, Charlotte screamed Anne’s name, trying to awake her or stop her tremors. Charlotte hurriedly knelt down beside Anne’s body, contorting itself as it shook. Charlotte instinctively put her hand behind Anne’s head to keep it from knocking against the floor and started to whisper _“I’m here, Anne, I’m here.”_ Charlotte knew she had to ring for a servant, but she did not want to leave Anne’s side. Charlotte held Anne in her arms, one hand still cradling her head, she brushed Anne’s drenched blond hair from her from her face and tilted Anne toward her slowly rocking her for comfort. Charlotte was unsure for whose comfort she performed the action, but soon Anne’s tremors seemed to subside. Charlotte brushed Anne’s cheek. She knew Anne was stronger than she seemed, but here in this moment Anne seemed so fragile, so helpless. It was such a vast contrast from the Anne she had known in the days prior.

Suddenly, Anne’s eyes opened. “Charlotte?” Anne croaked quietly.

“I’m here” was Charlotte’s reply.

“Who shall I ring for?” Charlotte said next.

Anne’s eyes were bleary and Charlotte could tell she was not quite fully aware, yet. Anne looked at her with confusion and worry without saying a word.

“Shh. It’s alright.” Charlotte soothed. “I will stay here with you.”

Charlotte kissed Anne on the forehead and heard Anne give a little sigh.

“I’m sorry, Charlotte.” Anne said.

“Why on Earth are you sorry?” Charlotte asked, looking Anne straight in the eye.

“I am a burden on you.” Anne mumbled miserably.

“No. Don’t you ever say that, Anne. I knew I was here to help you, and help you I always shall”.

“Always?” Anne asked, still speaking softly.

“Yes.” Charlotte said. “So long as we are both breathing, I will be here for you. Perhaps longer, but I don’t know much of the afterlife, so…”

Anne smiled meekly at Charlotte’s joke, and Charlotte left Anne momentarily to grab a pillow to place under her head.

When Charlotte had ascertained that Anne was comfortable, she kissed her on the cheek and told her, “I’m going to call for someone, now”.

“Mhm.” Anne hummed, closing her eyes. Charlotte waited for a moment, ensuring that Anne was not going to lose consciousness once more. When she was satisfied, she pulled the cord by Anne’s bed that connected to a bell in the servant’s quarters.

Anne’s dressing maid knocked on the door minutes later. When Charlotte answered the door and explained what happened, the maid thanked Charlotte for her tremendous care and was grateful that Charlotte had heard Anne’s cries. The maid quickly left to grab a butler and a footman to carry Anne from the floor to her bed. Once they had left, the maid told Charlotte that she may leave, and that she would look after Anne. Charlotte was reluctant to leave, but it was getting close to suppertime, and so she told the maid she would leave to eat, but that she would look after Anne after she had supped. The maid agreed to this and Charlotte made to quit the room through the door back to her own chamber. As she was about to leave, so saw a letter addressed to her upon Anne’s writing desk. She peeked behind her to see that the maid’s eyes were on Anne, and grabbed the letter, pocketing it before closing the door quietly behind her.


	10. My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte and Anne confess their true feelings.

 

Chapter Ten: My Love

 

_I shall just have to endure, knowing that you will read this letter, and imagine what your response will be upon reading my words. Will they delight you? Make you smile?_

Anne’s words did make Charlotte smile as she read them to herself once more after dinner. She could hardly believe them. It had only been mere days, yes, but it had indeed been some of the most miraculous and full days of Charlotte’s life. Guilt pierced Charlotte’s stomach, however, as she thought of her husband waiting for her at home, unaware that she had been unfaithful. She sighed as she tucked the letter inside her bodice and went to the kitchen to get some broth for Anne.

Charlotte knocked quietly on the door before entering. As she opened the door, the maid attending to Anne gave Charlotte a weary smile. “Hello, Mrs. Collins,” the maid said, “are you certain you don’t mind tending to Miss de Bourgh? You should be getting some rest yourself, you know!”

“I’m quite certain, Betsy,” Charlotte replied, “I have brought Miss de Bourgh some beef broth from the kitchens.”

“Oh, yes! I do think that’ll do her good!” Betsy replied. “She’s been sleeping ever since you left, quiet as a church mouse. Now if you’ll excuse me, ma’am, I’ll attend to the rest of my duties for the evening. Ring if you need anything at all. We’ve asked the Doctor to call upon her in the morning, but if she gets worse, let us know and we will fetch him immediately!”

“I’m fine…” Charlotte heard Anne mumble.

“You rest up, Miss de Bourgh and let Mrs. Collins take care of you.” Betsy chided Anne before leaving.

“I shall.” Anne whispered, not looking to Betsy as she left, but rather at Charlotte who upon noting Anne’s gaze, nearly dropped the tray in her hands.

“I’ve brought you something to eat.” Charlotte told Anne, regaining her composure.

“Charlotte, you dear, thank you.” Anne said, motioning for Charlotte to come sit on the edge of the bed next to her.

Charlotte carefully placed the tray over Anne’s lap. Before Charlotte could turn away, Anne softly grabbed Charlotte’s hand. She pulled Charlotte closer to her so that Charlotte’s face hovered over her own, and she leaned up to kiss Charlotte full on the lips.

Charlotte sighed as she felt Anne’s lips meld with her own; warm, wet flesh caressing her mouth with soft, languid kisses. Charlotte wanted the kiss to continue forever, but she broke away from Anne.

“What? Didn’t you enjoy yourself?” Anne asked. She looked tired, but smug with satisfaction.

Charlotte felt her cheeks burn red, “Of course I did!” Charlotte snapped, looking away, “But you need to eat.”

“After I eat, may I endeavor to make you blush so, again?” Anne asked cheekily.

“Perhaps.” Charlotte replied. “Can you manage to eat the broth yourself?”

“I can,” Anne said, “but I would not be opposed to your help, if you don’t mind? Despite evidence to the contrary, I still don’t quite feel myself.”

“Oh, yes, alright.” Charlotte responded, not quite sure whether or not to believe Anne. Anne felt well enough to kiss her and leave her breathless, but not well enough to feed herself? Charlotte wondered if Anne merely wanted the enjoyment of having Charlotte wait on her. Charlotte decided she didn’t mind.

Charlotte dipped the silver spoon into the steaming bowl of broth, and careful not to spill its contents, directed the spoon towards Anne’s mouth. Anne opened her mouth and closed it gently around the spoon, lightly sipping its contents. Charlotte was fascinated by that mouth. A mouth that could keep itself shut and feign demureness, but also tease and flirt when no one else could hear, and leave kisses that stunned.

Charlotte was acutely aware that Anne noticed she was staring at her mouth, but did not meet Anne’s eyes, and took the spoon away from the offending facial feature to get more broth. When Charlotte turned back to feed the other woman once more, Anne licked her bottom lip, wickedly. Charlotte spilled the spoon's contents, getting beef broth all over her lap.

“Oh you are maddening!” Charlotte cried softly, taking the napkin from the tray and attempting to soak up the liquid that had spilled.

“I’m sorry, Charlotte.” Anne said, covering the hand Charlotte held the napkin in with her own, gently rubbing her thumb over the back of Charlotte’s hand. The thumb seemed to ignite every nerve inside her, and Charlotte was slowly losing her nerve.

“Anne…” Charlotte breathed the other woman’s name, as if it were a prayer, a wish.

“I know,” Anne said, recognizing the anguish in Charlotte’s eyes. “You must go back to your husband. You musn’t tell him the truth of what has transpired here, and it’s eating away at you. I know. But we still have tonight, and we will write; we will still see each other, perhaps just not as often or as intimately as we would like to.”

Charlotte nodded, relieved Anne understood. She let out a deep sigh, and placing the forgotten tray of beef broth aside, she pulled Anne’s letter out of her bodice.

“Dear Charlotte!” Anne cried, “Now you’re the one teasing me, drawing attention to your bosom by pulling hidden treasure from it!”

It was Charlotte’s turn to smile wickedly. Anne liked it when she smiled.

“I took the liberty of taking this letter addressed to me from your writing table.” Charlotte explained, exposing the contents of the paper into Anne’s view. I also took the liberty of responding to your message. Will you read it?”

Hesitantly, Anne reached for the piece of folded paper. Her eyes were wary, focused on Charlotte, until she brought the letter closer to her face. She unfolded the paper, and discovered a new message scrawled underneath her own:

_Dearest Anne,_

_Please know that your letter has made me smile, and I wish you could see it. I have never been so happy. Darling Anne, I am in love with you, despite the brevity of our intimacy. My soul yearns for yours, and I hope that you can comprehend my feelings and recognize them as your own same feelings. As I write this, I am full of sorrow at our impending separation, but know that you will continue to occupy my every thought until we may be together, alone, again._

_Please accept this declaration of my love. It is true._

_All my love, always,_

_Charlotte_

Anne’s eyes widened upon reading the words. Once she had finished, she continued to stare at them, clutching the yellowed paper in her snow white hand. Finally, she lifted her eyes to look at Charlotte.

For a brief moment, Charlotte panicked. Maybe Anne did not feel as similarly as Charlotte had hoped? What if Anne did not love Charlotte, and Charlotte had just ruined all chances of it her ever doing so?

“Anne…?” Charlotte whispered breaking the unbearable silence.

“You love me?” Anne whispered in return.

“With all my heart.” Charlotte replied, unable to mask her feelings in Anne’s presence.

Anne threw the blankets off of her and moved to the side of the bed so that she was sitting next to Charlotte. Her hair was messy having been lying against the pillows and in the oncoming moonlight the hairs sticking up formed a golden halo around her head. Mesmerized by this halo, Charlotte was unprepared for when Anne snaked her arms around Charlotte’s waist, pulling her close.

Anne freed one hand, keeping the other on the small of Charlotte’s back. She cradled Charlotte’s cheek with her free hand.

Moved by the gesture Charlotte started to cry, tears gently falling down her cheeks.

Anne wiped away the tears with her thumb and said, “Don’t cry, my love.”

“Your love?” Charlotte questioned, her voice creaky with emotion.

“Yes. My love.” Anne said and kissed away Charlotte’s happy tears as they continued to pour.


	11. Leaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte leaves Rosing's Park.

Chapter Eleven: Leaving

 

In the early morning hours of the following day, Charlotte begrudgingly removed herself from Anne’s embrace and crept back to her room. She had decided in the night to leave before Anne awoke … and before Lady Catherine returned. Charlotte knew her fear was probably unfounded, but she was worried that if Lady Catherine saw her today, the woman would be instantly able to read Charlotte’s face and surmise what had happened while she was away.

And so, Charlotte hurriedly dressed herself in the dim morning light, choosing a dress that fastened in front so that she may dress without interference. The dress was decidedly out of fashion, but Charlotte found it practical and was thankful for it just now. Her mind whirred unable to concentrate on buttons, and it took her longer to dress than she would have liked. However, as Charlotte peeked through the doorway that connected Anne’s bedchamber with her own, she saw Anne still lay sleeping, looking peaceful and beautiful.

“Goodbye, love…” Charlotte whispered and closed the door quietly.

As she made her way down the main staircase, a maid caught sight of her and started.

“Mrs. Collins! You gave me a fright! Are you leaving so soon? Surely you’ll take some breakfast first?”

“No thank you, Kate,” Charlotte replied, “I am anxious to get home to my husband.” _Liar._

Kate looked bewildered, wondering why anyone would be anxious to return to William Collins, but schooled her features into a mask of propriety as she said:

“Of course, ma’am. I am sure he will be anxiously awaiting you. Shall I call for a carriage to take you back?”

“No, Kate, I shall walk. Thank you.” Charlotte said, making her way toward the door, fastening her gloves.

A passing butler made to open the door for her. “Are you certain ma’am?” He said. “It is no trouble to call a carriage and the air has quite a damp chill this morning.”

“Thank you for your kindness, but it is a short walk” Charlotte responded, ending the matter.

The butler nodded wordlessly and opened the door for her with his white gloved hand.

As she made her way toward the cottage, Charlotte was numb to the cold. Her head, previously swimming with thoughts of Anne, thoughts of guilt, thoughts of desire, thoughts of shame, was now amazingly free of any thought, as she continued on her way engulfed in what felt like a trance.

Somehow her feet had managed to take her to the doorstep of the cottage, and she knocked feebly on the door to be let in. Ella, their housekeeper answered, surprised by Charlotte’s sudden appearance.

“Why madam! We wasn’t expecting ye back until midday! Come, come, ye look chilled to the bone!”

“Thank you, Ella.” Charlotte replied entering.

“Mr. Collins ain’t down yet, madam, that’s how early ye are! Shall I have Mary draw ye a bath?”

“That would be lovely, Ella, thank you.” Charlotte whispered, making her way up the stairs in the back of the cottage to her private dressing room.

Immersed in the bath, Charlotte felt warm and comfortable, much like she did when she was with Anne. But as she stepped out of the bathtub, the cool air hitting her skin, Charlotte immediately felt exposed and vulnerable, fully realizing the unhappy lie she was forced to live on a daily basis and how greatly it contrasted from her happy week past. Charlotte felt Anne’s loss immensely, though she was but a mile away. Charlotte thanked and dismissed the maid who had helped her towel off and dress. As soon as the maid quitted the room, Charlotte sank into a nearby chair and collapsed into sobs of despair.


	12. Missing and Kissing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne misses Charlotte, and so she decides to take action.

It had been days since Charlotte’s departure; and her mother’s unfortunate return. Anne had enjoyed her time with Charlotte immensely, and had taken pleasure in the activities she was able to enjoy in her mother’s absence. Among other things, these activities included the reading of novels, a pastime her mother thought too taxing for Anne’s health. Reading about imaginary happenings and fantastical adventures strained the mind, according to Lady Catherine, and Anne’s mind should not be put under such strain, should they cause her "fits" to increase in number.

Anne was fondly recalling Charlotte’s laugh as Anne read stories aloud to her one afternoon. Anne had not heard from, or seen Charlotte since her departure, and this worried Anne. She had hoped, in the very least, to start their correspondence via letter. However, Anne was worried that perhaps Charlotte had changed her mind upon returning home to Mr. Collins, and was afraid to send Charlotte a letter for fear of the rejection that may follow. Anne did not want to believe that Charlotte was not in love with her, but in the absence of novels, Anne was left with only her insecurities to tax her mind.

Mama was having a lie-down at present, and Anne was sitting in her chambers. She determined, looking out the window at the beautiful day before her, that fresh air would do her some good. Mama need not know she was to leave unchaperoned.

Most of the servants were busy preparing supper or cleaning and tending to the household chores to notice Anne sneak out the side door off of the library and into the garden. Once Anne made it outdoors, she immediately found herself kissed by the sun. Its light warmed her face as she closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy this moment. Of course, being kissed by the sun was nowhere near as good as being kissed by Charlotte, but it would have to do for the present.

Anne slowly made her way down the garden path and as it ended, she turned right toward the Collins’ cottage. The sun was soon hidden by the high trees, the leaves acting as a parasol so that Anne wouldn’t get too much sun on her nose. Mama would never forgive her if her pale skin were to be marred by exposure to the sunlight, and Anne had forgotten, in her haste to escape, to grab a bonnet. As Anne continued further into the forested area, she saw a shadowed figure coming toward her. Immediately, Anne thought of highwaymen, and imagined herself as a character in a novel about to be kidnapped by one of those rogues. However, her terrified excitement faded into slight relief as she saw that this shadow was in possession of skirts.

As Charlotte came forward into a bit of light that was a result of a break in the canopy overhead, Anne tripped over a tree branch in her astonishment. As she stumbled, Charlotte rushed forward and took Anne’s arm so as to prevent her from falling.

Anne suddenly felt nervous around the other woman. Uncertain what lay ahead for their relationship, Anne found herself trying to find the courage to speak as she looked into the other woman’s eyes. Before Anne could form any coherent words, Charlotte stroked Anne’s cheek with her thumb.

“Anne…” Charlotte whispered.

Anne closed the gap between the two women, pressing her lips to Charlotte’s in a chaste kiss. She pulled away sensing Charlotte’s discomfort and tears came to her eyes unbidden.

“You do not love me.” Anne said.

“No…no…” Charlotte stammered, bringing grabbing Anne’s hands as Anne attempted to make her retreat. “Anne, darling, I do love you. I love you most ardently. I am so very sorry that I have not written or called upon you until now. You see, once I got back home, everything just seemed so different. It seemed as though everything that had happened during my time with you had happened in a magical fantasy land that I was never meant to return to. I was so confused and distraught. I do not love my husband, not in the way I should. Seeing him again terrified me and shamed me. I felt I had to let go of you and resign myself to my life, even if it felt as though I were in Gaol. I realize now how silly and foolish I was being, and how horrid you must have thought me. Everything happened so quickly, Anne…” Charlotte trailed off, courage seeming to leave her as she looked beseechingly into Anne’s eyes.

“You … you were coming to call upon me just now?”, was all Anne said.

“Yes. Mr. Collins went to pay a call upon an ill parishioner and so I made the decision to come see you, even if I had to endure your mother alongside you.

Anne laughed in response, joy starting to brighten her features, once more: “Charlotte, I escaped Mama to come visit _you_!”

“What?!” Charlotte asked incredulously, before laughing merrily along with Anne.

“Well, I suppose I haven’t escaped for good, of course. But she does not know that I am out.”

“No, she would be quite displeased if she knew you were out without a chaperone … and a bonnet!” Charlotte said in mock-surprise.

“Well then, Mrs. Collins,” Anne said, “would you be so good as to be my chaperone for the journey back to Rosing’s Park?”

“Gladly.” Charlotte said. “But, before I escort you home, may I kiss you? I fear I was a bit taken aback when you kissed me earlier, as I was certain you were angry with me…”

“Well, dear Charlotte, I am still quite cross...” Anne said with a smile on her face that suggested otherwise, “I was anxious that you had forgotten me entirely. However, I understand how you must have felt. Indeed, Mama’s return has made Rosing’s Park much less enchanting; and so, as a token of my forgiveness, I will allow you to kiss me.”

Charlotte smiled genuinely, which delighted Anne all the more, and wrapping her arm around Anne’s waist, Charlotte pulled Anne into a long kiss that neither was inclined to end anytime soon.


	13. In 19th Century England We Write Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anne receives a rather distressing letter from her cousin, Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Anne was delighted when a letter was presented to her by the butler. She was certain it was from Charlotte; they had been carrying on a quite scandalous correspondence for some weeks now. If anyone besides the two of them were to ever discover the contents of those letters ... oh dear ...

Or perhaps it was cousin Georgiana; Anne had not heard from her for some months since. If it was not her, Anne resolved to write her later that day.

As she absentmindedly opened the seal, she noticed the familiar, untidy scrawl -- it was a letter from Darcy!

This was a surprise! Darcy hadn't written to her since they were children! Anne eagerly unfolded the letter, anxious to discover its contents. 

 

_My Dear Anne,_

_I find myself at a loss for words, and yet I feel the need to correspond with someone. I pray you will not mind that I immediately thought to turn to you to unburden my mind, as you have always been such a wonderful and discreet confidante during our talks in person._

_I find myself still in love with Miss Elizabeth Bennet; the adoration which I confessed to you upon our last meeting has yet to cease despite her firm refusal of my proposal. What's worse is that I happened upon her when she visited Derbyshire with her Aunt and Uncle. She is quite charming as ever, and I have reason to believe she does not find me as repulsive as she once did. I was a horribly stupid, proud bugger when I proposed to her, and I don't know that I ever expect her to forget that, but perhaps she can forgive me, yet._

Anne paused at this moment to giggle at her cousin's foul language. He did not often speak so informally, but had a habit of doing so when he was upset with himself. If Mama ever heard him use such terminology, Anne was quite sure it would give her a case of the vapours. Anne smirked at the thought and continued her reading...

_Anne, the reason I write to you is because something of great upset has occurred within the Bennet family. Elizabeth's youngest sister, Lydia, has run off with that scoundrel George Wickham. Elizabeth is overcome with grief for fear of her family's ruin, and her father has gone to London with her Uncle Gardner to try and find Wickham and Lydia and talk some sense into them. I fear he will be unable to do so. He does not have the money to satiate George's greed and buy his favor. That is why I am going to London to intervene on his behalf._

_Anne, you must not breathe a word of this. If your mother finds out ... no one must know. I value your discretion and I trust you to burn this letter upon seeing its contents.  I am going to London, unbeknownst to Mr. Bennet or Mr. Gardner. I think I know where they might be hiding, and if I am wrong, I intend to find them out. I intend on offering money to Wickham ... enough money for him to marry Lydia and save the family from disgrace. You must know I do this for Elizabeth and Elizabeth alone. Not that I do not value her father and hold her family in esteem, but it is truly my pain upon seeing her so aggrieved that motivates me to take such action. Even if she can never love me, I intend to make amends for my ill treatment of her and her family. I must do this for her._

_Please keep me in your thoughts as I undertake this mission. Lord knows I will need a miracle for this to end well._

_Your faithful friend and cousin,_

_Fitzwilliam Darcy_

Anne could hardly believe what she had just read. Could this be true? Had George Wickham actually run off with Lydia Bennet? Oh, the nerve of that man! Especially after how abominably he treated Georgiana! Anne felt her face flush at the thought. Thank goodness Mama was out making calls. Anne would never be able to school her features quickly enough for her mother not to become suspicious were she here.

Anne did as Darcy requested and quickly threw the letter into the fire. She would do as he requested, she would not divulge the contents of this letter to a soul. However, Anne decided that perhaps now was a good time to write to Charlotte. Given Mrs. Collins' intimacy with Miss Elizabeth Bennet, perhaps she also knew of her friend's predicament and would be able to shed more light on how these events had come to pass... 

Anne rushed to her writing table and hastily scribbled out a note to her lover:

_My dearest Charlotte,_

_If it would please you, would you be so kind as to pay me a call as soon as it is convenient for you to come alone? I long to see you, for a tale of most distressing nature has been relayed to me regarding the family of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. I pray for the sake of everyone involved that this tale contains falsehoods, but I fear you shall be able to tell me the awful truth. Please know that while I am not on such intimate terms with the Bennet family as you and your husband are, I care a great deal about their well-being because I know that they are most dear to you. I wish to do what I might be able in order to ease their worry, if at all possible._

_Faithfully Yours,_

_Anne_

Anne then sealed the letter and rushed to find a servant so that it would be sent to the Collins' parsonage without delay, all the while hoping that her dear cousin was able to succeed in finding the missing couple without delay, as well.


End file.
